


wilder than i've ever been

by pleurer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Grinding, M/M, Peter is still Spider-Man, Sexual Content, Stripper Peter Parker, Undercover Missions, tony is still iron man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/pseuds/pleurer
Summary: There were many reasons why becoming a stripper to pay his college tuition was a bad idea. Peter never thought this would be one of them.





	wilder than i've ever been

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted for the prompt '100 words of bad decisions' [here](https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/387809.html?thread=2277492705#cmt2277492705).
> 
> Title from Bad Decisions - Ariana Grande.

There were many reasons why becoming a stripper to pay his college tuition was a bad idea. MJ made sure to tell him as much, quoting lots of social justice articles at him and telling him he could do better. May had flipped out when she found out, and it’d taken weeks to get her to believe that he was a responsible adult who knew how to play it safe. But of all these reasons, Peter never thought this would be one of them.  
  
Because right now, Peter, who’s usually confident enough in his super strength and stamina to put on a good show— right now, his palms are insanely sweaty and he’s pretty sure he might be trembling a little in the presence of Tony freaking Stark, the idol of his childhood, the star of every wet dream he’s had since he was fifteen.  
  
“You know,” says Tony. “I was told you were the best dancer in this joint. I paid for a private lap dance, not—” He gestures Peter up and down. “This. Don’t be scared, just think of me like any other client. I won’t bite, I promise.”  
  
“Um,” says Peter eloquently. “Okay. Yeah, I can do that.” He wipes his palms on his leather shorts and scrambles onto Tony’s lap. He hooks his arms around the back of Tony’s neck and tries for a coy smile, though it ends up being a little tight to prevent his bottom lip from trembling at how insanely good Tony’s cologne smells, mixed in with the underlying scent of _him_ underneath. He can’t get hard _now._ That’d be so unprofessional. His client’s enjoyment has to come first.  
  
“What’s the policy here?” says Tony lowly. “No touching?”  
  
“Yeah,” says Peter, “but I can make an exception for you, if you leave a fat tip. Which I think you’d be more than capable of.”  
  
Tony chuckles. “I like you,” he says. “Enough to pay up front.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a wad of cash— are those hundred-dollar bills Peter sees?— and sticks it in Peter’s back pocket. Before he can react, Tony’s large, calloused hands come up to rest on Peter’s hips, and then Peter makes a soft squeak in the back of his throat. Tony grins at that, sliding his hands down to rest on the curve of his ass. Peter doesn’t know what this is called— a sugar daddy kink? A money kink? Regardless, he has it. He’s definitely straining in his pants now at the feeling of the fat wad of cash pressed up to his ass through the fabric under Tony’s strong, controlled touch. The pleasure spurs him on, and he rolls his hips forward against Tony’s crotch, to the rhythm of the music. Tony lets out a barely audible sigh, leaning in a bit like he maybe wants to kiss Peter but doesn’t know if it’s appropriate. Peter’s glad he doesn’t kiss him, because even the way his beard brushes lightly against Peter’s jaw is enough to nearly make him cream his pants. That’d be an unforgivable slight on his dignity.  
  
Peter switches positions, swiveling around so that his backside is facing Tony, and is about to start dancing again when the roof suddenly starts caving in. A huge chunk of it crumbles and begins to fall.  
  
“Holy shit,” Peter exclaims, and, acting before he can think, he stands above Tony and catches the fallen cement, shielding Tony from what would otherwise crush him. Except Tony’s already activated his nanotech suit and is now staring up at Peter, an unreadable look in his eye.  
  
As the other people in the club scream and run, Tony says, "FRIDAY, wipe any and all footage of the last five seconds." Peter gently drops the fallen chunk of wall onto the floor.  
  
“Um,” says Peter sheepishly. “Can we also maybe wipe your memory?”  
  
Tony doesn’t respond, simply aims his blasters at the villains who have dropped into the room with their guns in hand. Peter ducks behind Tony as Tony dodges their blows and shoots each of them right in the chest with perfect aim, and they fall into an unconscious heap.  
  
“That was fast,” says Tony, deactivating his suit and straightening out his suit. “I would’ve wanted to see more of your powers in action, but people were looking.”  
  
“Wait,” says Peter. “You _knew_ this would happen?”  
  
“More or less,” says Tony. “You guys are a front for black-market alien tech, did you know that? Your boss is one of the guys I’m after. And a lot of your data matched up with those YouTube videos— spiderling, or whatever— so I decided to drop by and see for myself. Maybe recruit your help with this mission.”  
  
“Spider-Man,” says Peter. “You know, you could have just _asked_ me about it like a normal person. You didn’t have to pretend to be a client.”  
  
“Oh, that wasn’t pretend.” Tony puts a hand on Peter’s lower back. Then he smirks and presses a kiss to the underside of Peter’s jaw, tongue darting out to lick at the drop of sweat there. “Who says business and pleasure can’t go hand in hand?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be just a snippet, so I've marked it as complete for now; but who knows, I might add more in the future :D


End file.
